


A Renewed Proposal

by ewinkie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo will not die, Chewie's doing his best, Empress Rey, F/M, Finn's just doing his best, First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Leia's real confused, POV Leia Organa, POV Rey, POV Rose Tico, Poe's angry, Rey takes his hand, Reylo all the waylo, Rose is figuring it out, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, she would've taken his hand if Finn hadn't shown up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23869915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewinkie/pseuds/ewinkie
Summary: On the ship above Kijimi, Kylo offers Rey his hand once more. She takes it.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 41
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, I spent this scene kinda wishing she would just take his hand, so I wanted to explore her making that decision instead. I rewatched this scene to make sure the dialogue was correct, but it's been a minute since I've seen the whole movie, so please forgive any inconsistencies. This is not beta-read, all mistakes are my own (sorry!). Enjoy!

The mask had been a dead giveaway. Where anyone would fine such a horrendous piece of material, and why they’d even want it in the first place was beyond Rey, but she knew that it had to be of some importance if it had earned a pedestal like that of the sith knife.

And he known that she’d been in that austere room in the strange corner of the ship. And he stood here now, wearing that mask (not unlike the shriveled one that had disappeared right before her eyes). To an oblivious onlooker, it may have seemed a tribute to Darth Vader. Or even a medical necessity, much like the original masked man.

But Rey was not an oblivious onlooker She knew that underneath the mask lay a pair of beautiful eyes. Those expressive, dark orbs reflected all of this man’s feelings, and without the mask to conceal them, they’d betray their owner in a matter of seconds. Awe, despair, longing, and even the galaxy’s most desperate stare had been in those eyes, drawing her in just a year ago, and nearly bringing her to let her friends die just to end their collective misery.

Those eyes did have a certain power over her, yes, but while the gaze on Ben Solo had drew her in, Snoke had seen the misery expressed in those eyes as a weakness, and used it against the man. At this moment in time, the mask protected both of them; him, from his officers around him, and her, from his persuasive gaze. But, why was such protection necessary now? She’d seen his speeches on the Holonet, and even in person over the bond a few times (during which she’d put up the most disdainful expression she could muster, and after which she fought back tears), yet the helmet that haunted her in the woods of Takodana had been noticeably absent.

It was almost a reversion, she thought, to their original status as enemies. She had, after their brief moment when they’d fought side by side, returned to her three buns and light apparel (which, thanks to the Resistance, she was able to keep in its pristine, white, pure condition). It may have taken him a year, she supposed, but he was the masked monster again, finally displaying himself as her enemy, as he made plans to renew his offer (which she’d reject, of course). The mask’s return made sense, of course, but why now? Had Palpatine insisted on it? With his actual return to his grandfather’s status as the ex-Emperor’s apprentice, had Kylo decided manifest his allegiance physically? But Kylo himself had said that he’d been instructed to kill her. Was finding and reassembling the broken shards of the mask really worth the trouble if he intended to betray the Emperor immediately? No, this had something to do with the nature of the impending betrayal; for whatever reason, Kylo Ren had donned the mask in his preparation to face her.

And now the moment was here. As she finished circling him – wait a moment. Why weren’t the stormtroopers firing at her? Surely if he wanted her there, one of them could shoot her, and he could merely drag her wherever he wished—she thought back to their last conversation.

“Why did the Emperor come for me? Why did he want to kill a child?” Though she was free of the unfortunate illusion that somehow, she had been so worthless and unlovable that her parents would sell her for a few bottles of cheap liquor, it had been replaced by something far worse; being such a wretched creature that someone as powerful as the Emperor, for Force’s sake, would deem a little five year old unworthy of life in the galaxy.

“Tell me,” she commanded.

“Because he saw what you would become,” was the reply. The masked man before her inched forward tentatively, his steps carrying a careful hesitancy not matched by his powerful intonation. “You don’t just have power. You have his power. You’re his granddaughter.” At this blow, his words softened, but returned to their harsher edge as he stated, simply, “You are a Palpatine.”

And with those four words, the world she had known was shattered. Rey Palpatine. She began stepping backwards at the mere thought of it. Though she had never known any last name, this one felt wrong immediately, though she knew, as she knew with everything that came out of this man’s mouth, it was true. But how could she move forward with that foul creature’s blood running through her veins? Blood wasn’t everything, Rey had learned that early on when she first heard the legend of Vader’s son saving the galaxy. But still. There had been some refuge in coming from no one from nowhere, because at least the story was never truly hers, and she was just along for the ride (if you can call being a poster Jedi “along for the ride”), but now, she knew, this was all meant to happen. What this was, she didn’t know, but she understood that her journey was not chance, but rather it was destiny. But what that destiny was remained to be discovered.

Kylo approached, maintaining the prior distance between them. As if detecting her crisis (a crisis, she realized, he had been through as well), he spoke again. “My mother was the daughter of Vader.” Even with the vocalizer in the mask, his tone was gentle as he traced the line of commonality between them. “Your father was the son of the emperor.” As if in a dance, she stepped back as he stepped forward, but though his strides were capable of exceeding hers, he simply matched her pace. “What Palpatine doesn’t know,” he continued, in a smug tone only a Solo could use successfully, “is we’re a Dyad in the force, Rey.” The vocalizer may hide many things, but she flashed back to the elevator, his eyes burning into her soul, as she recalled the way he’d said her name then. Without knowing it, she’d memorized the motion his lips made as he said the only half of her name she’d ever known.

“Two that are one.” She was unable to step back any farther from the man she was inextricably bound to. Yet after a mere one more step, he’d stopped. Once again maintaining the distance between them. “We’ll kill him. Together. And take the throne.” Much like in the throne room, all those months ago, the offer was tempting. The “together” he spoke of contained promises that the resistance had been unable to grant her. As she’d set out on her mission, her friends had insisted on accompanying her, of course, but no one tried to talk her out of it. Nobody said, “It’s okay Rey, I’ll help you with this.” And, friends they might be, but Finn and Poe had done nothing except for make sarcastic, obvious remarks, and yell her name. Repeatedly. For no reason. No, the rebellion hadn’t even asked, but expected her to kill Palpatine, and not even a smidge of help had been indicated or offered in terms of what the inevitable final battle would be. And here stood a man (for he had removed the mask now, and was merely a man), practically promising to help her avenge her parents’ deaths and save the galaxy.

“You know what you need to do. You know,” he implored, his natural, smooth voice back in its commanding tone, perhaps to make up for the vulnerability due to the loss of the mask. His hair, looked soft and voluminous as it had the first time he’d removed the mask (at her request, even) fluttered ever so slightly. But his eyes. They looked the same they had over the fire on Ach-To, the same they had as this desperate man had pleaded with her to stay with him on the supremacy, those desperate eyes that haunted her as she closed the Falcon’s door in his face. But the hand, the one that had extended across not just the fire, but the whole damn galaxy for her was back.

“I do.” The words were absentminded, falling from her mouth before she’d even registered it. Still, he made no motion forward, even as the Falcon’s engine roared behind her. He used the force to hold himself in place, and to hold her upright as the Falcon blew down the ranks of Stormtroopers surrounding them. But he did not try to drag her towards him, nor did he even freeze her there.

This was a choice.

Even as she saw he wanted, no needed her to join him, he’d let her go if she wished. He was letting her choose her fate, no matter how much it might hurt him.

“Rey! Come on,” Finn called from the Falcon.

She now stood between two men. One belonged to a brave Resistance movement, and the other, an authoritarian regime. But the former had lied to her at their first encounter. And, care for her though he might, this care did not take the form of actively helping or protecting her, but merely trailing after her as though he always saved her skin, and not the other way around. The latter, on the other hand, in spite of his less than moral actions, was someone she trusted. So much so, in fact, that she’d sent herself into enemy territory because she believed in his ability to keep her safe from Snoke. Initially he had not succeeded, but in the end, he’s killed his former master. The First Order was no kiddie party, but the terror of its rule had lessened since Kylo Ren had taken charge. Like any person, really, he had both darkness and light in him.

Still, she turned to face Finn.

She had no doubt that Kylo could have flung her or Finn off of their respective ships, and out to fall to their dooms on the planet below. Earlier in their conversation (if you could call it that), he or his troops could have knocked her out, taken her prisoner, or otherwise forced her to be with him. And the power to choose was foreign to her. On Jakku, the choice was easy; find out how to survive, or perish in the desert. Her choice was clear, and not much of a choice at all. Since joining the Resistance, she’d had to take orders from those around her. She followed those orders, and didn’t mind, as she respected those who gave them. Nobody had asked her to join the Resistance. She’d been assimilated, and truly hadn’t minded. No one asked her if she wanted to be a Jedi; she wasn’t even truly a Jedi, unless three crappy lessons and a stack of indecipherable books counted, yet she stood, tall, armed, and proud, on every piece of Resistance propaganda, offering a symbol of hope. A false symbol, she thought secretly, and Leia knew too, but Poe had deemed it necessary, so she obliged. After all, she was surrounded by people these days, all of whom made up a cobbled together sort of family around her, which was meant to be what she’d always craved.

She reached a hand towards Finn.

The only time she’d actually felt whole, however, had been with Ben, Kylo, whoever this confused man was. Much as she liked her resistance friends, she was lonely around them. As it turns out, the mere presence of people does not scare away loneliness.

She took a step.

Towards the Falcon.

And used her outstretched hand to start the closing sequence on the Falcon’s door. Finn screamed her name, his face painted with confusion as she turned, with a new clarity to face Ben.

“Go!” she screamed to Finn, over her shoulder, as she began to run towards Ben. For he was Ben, even as Supreme Leader, at least to her. He made no motion to stop the Falcon or harm her first friend, but he did step towards her, eyes alight with hope, eyes brimming with tears.

She stopped, chuckled as she shed a few tears of her own, and reached out a hand to him. But fear grew in her heart as he did not return the favor.

Instead, he threw his gloves to the ground and walked briskly towards her, keeping eye contact. He was a mere few inches away when he stopped, but her outstretched hand remained ignored.

Tentatively, he placed a warm hand on her cheek. As his feet moved the last step towards her, her face was gently tilted up to his until his lips were on hers. The hand she’d reached to him joined her other in now working its way into his hair (which was as soft as she’d imagined it) as his remaining free hand grabbed her by the waist, and lifted her off the ground, the both of them spinning as they blissfully kissed. It wasn’t until they split apart for air, resting their foreheads together, that they noticed the Falcon still hadn’t finished leaving. They watched it blast off into hyperspace together, their fingers intertwined.

* * *

Meanwhile, on Ajan Kloss, Leia received an unexpected transmission from the Falcon. This was odd; their mission was supposed to be of the most privacy, any transmission should have been too risky, no matter what had happened.  
“Dameron, report,” she commanded. Things must’ve gone terribly wrong for such communication to be necessary.

“Well, um,” the pilot stuttered, “We lost. . . Rey kinda. . .um. . . I don’t really know.”

“Poe, just tell me what you saw that made it so important that you contact me.”

Chewie growled, and Leia was shocked.

“The kiss of the century?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first fanfic, so feel free to lemme know what you thought!
> 
> May the force be with you!


	2. Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey realizes the depth of her decision, while Leia wonders what the heck is going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading/kudo-ing/commenting! It really feels great to see that other human beings like the stuff you've done.  
> Again, non-beta'd, so if I messed up, that's on me.

Rey looked at Ben (there was no way the kiss she’d just received had come from Kylo), and sighed contentedly. He was _smiling_ at her. Not the goading smirk he’d tossed her way all the way back on Ach-To, when she’d said she knew everything she needed to know about him (Force, how could she have been so _wrong_?), but a true smile, and his eyes, so often pleading with her in her dreams, usually dripping with longing, were alight and staring into hers.

He didn’t look at her with expectations that she’d save him, fear or awe of her power, or even hope; no, he was fully present with _Rey_ , in this beautiful moment, looking at her like she was the whole galaxy. It was a moment she’d dreamed of for ages, one she’d thought was coming after Snoke’s death, and one she’d told herself was now impossible.

It was strange now, she thought, her hand on his face, her heart alight, that _she_ ’d been the one to give him the scar that now marked his face. As she stroked the mark she’d left so long ago, chuckling nervously, the events leading up to her marking him in that way cycled through her mind.

She remembered fighting him, but almost being. . . disappointed? On Jakku, though she’d remained oblivious (but not blissfully so) to much of the happenings of the galaxy, there were, of course, rumors of a masked man, armed with an angry red laser sword and a ruthless attitude, capable (physically and mentally) of fighting anyone in his path. If this man’s fighting skills (for Rey had experienced too much ruthlessness to find it an oddity) were strong enough that word of him would reach _Jakku_ , then he must, if nothing else, be a fierce warrior.

He hadn’t been making it easy, no, but he hadn’t been fighting to kill. At the time, she thought it’d make him weak, that it’d be his downfall; she thought he was underestimating her. But then he offered to teach her. She’d rejected him then of course, but much later, she realized that he hadn’t underestimated her. This had been a conscious choice; he could not, _would not_ hurt her any more than he had to.

Still, in the heat of the moment, she’d chosen to slash that angry, red scar across his face. She then ran to Finn, and enlisted Chewie to drag him onto the Falcon.

_Finn._

_Chewie._

Sensing her changing emotions, Ben brought a few fingers to her chin, bringing her eyes up to meet his. The brilliant smile had disappeared, his eyes were no longer alight with sheer delight. She almost expected anger, but instead, she was met, once again, with that look of sheer melancholy longing.

He was scared to lose her. Terrified clearly, but in those few seconds her mind had wandered, he had jumped to the worst-case scenario. As he blinked, a tear rolled down his cheek, and he nodded at her.

 _I’m not going to force you to stay if you don’t want to_ , he was saying, even as she felt his heart break at the very thought. He couldn’t bear to watch her leave, but he knew it’d be even worse if she was unhappy with him.

Instead of leaving, she just pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him as she settled her head onto his shoulder. He reciprocated, wrapping his strong, protective arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder, and sighed contentedly (albeit it a bit shakily) on her shoulder.

As if it wasn’t obvious enough to her before, she knew that this, right here with Ben, was where she was meant to be. His arms were firm around her, the cape he wore slightly enveloping her, sheer bliss radiating from both ends of their bond.

While Rey a year ago would have seen these arms as confinement, something she HAD to escape, they were now quite the opposite. They were peace. Safety. Happiness. _Home_.

The thought of leaving them, of leaving _him_ was unacceptable to her, especially now that she’d experienced this. She’d made the right choice. She only hoped her resistance friends would understand.

* * *

“I just don’t _understand_!” Finn was pacing, his emotions radiating off of him in waves. Confusion, concern, _hurt_.

Leia sat calmly, wishing she could give this man an explanation. But she was just as confused as the rest of them. Rey wouldn’t betray the resistance. Leia knew that. Others would disagree (Poe had already staked out his ground as first in line for _that_ position), but Leia had always been able to trust Rey.

Yet, Leia also knew that Rey was not easily manipulated or controlled. The only two ways she’d stand in a room with Ben (no _Kylo_ , she still hadn’t fully adjusted to his new persona) were with a lightsaber pointed at his neck, or of her own free will. And to let her son _smooch_ her? And supposedly kiss him back? She’d seen Rey threaten to break one of their allies’ wrists for placing his hand, uninvited, on the small of her back (admittedly, Leia would have done the same thing, but that’s not the point). A non-consensual kiss would have granted any offender an irrefutable invitation to pain.

But Ben ( _Kylo! Dammit)_ had kissed Rey. And he, to her knowledge, had not lost any appendages from the encounter. Which meant that Rey had lacked any objections. This was confirmed by Poe’s furious report that Rey had, in fact, kissed him back.

So Rey had chosen to kiss him. Huh.

Her brain finally returning to the conversation at hand, she replied to Finn, “Neither do I.”

Threepio chirped in reply, “Perhaps I might be able to shed some light on the situation, though I must admit my surprise at your not already knowing.”

Had Rey confided something in this droid but not her? Leia only allowed herself a moment of hurt before remembering that she _was_ the mother of the boy in question. “Let’s hear it Threepio.”

“Well, based on what my programming says about human interactions, what we witnessed is called a ‘kiss’. It is a show of affection usually reserved to show a romantic, often sexual, relationship between two people. In marriage ceremonies—”

“Shut up!” roared an irritable Poe. Ugh. As much as C3PO had annoyed her sometimes, Leia much preferred him to the oblivious droid standing before her. His current lack of memory not only felt as though a piece of her life was gone for good (which she knew wasn’t true, Artoo could give him his memory back as soon as this meeting ended), but was just plain irksome. Even more so than before, though there had been moments when she’d thought it impossible. But then again, there’d been a moment, not so long ago, when she would have though Rey not despising her son’s guts impossible.

Chewie roared at Threepio to go find Artoo. He’d previously been so silent during their discussion that the General had forgotten he was there: quite a feat for a seven-foot-tall hairy mass. Particularly one so opinionated as Chewbacca. Why, the last time she’d seen him this quiet had been. . .

It’d been when Ben was just a small boy.

Ever a curious mind, he had a habit of playing with various objects around the house and the Falcon. On one occasion, before they’d fully noticed the habit, Han’s dice had gone missing. Where they could have gone was anyone’s guess, but everyone in the family was well-aware of Han’s inexplicable faith in those dice.

A not-quite-frantic search had commenced, consisting of Han, Chewie, and herself. As with any search, there were explanations of, “Where could they be?!” and several profanities as everyone’s stamina dropped. But Chewie had not partaken in any of the chatter, not even a few recreational curse words ( _very_ strange for a Wookie).

Just as the disgruntled trio was getting ready to give up, Ben (who Leia realized had been goodness-knows-where this whole time, she _really_ should be keeping better track of her son) ran into the room a little out of breath, clutching those golden dice in his hand. It had been an accident, really, he explained, “I didn’t mean to take them to school with me, and I didn’t even realize I had until we were going home, and then I forgot to put them back in my backpack, so I had to wait until today to go back, and I’m really sorry I took them, it was really a mistake.”

And Ben seemed so apologetic and scared and _of course_ all was forgiven immediately and the Han had even lifted Ben up so he could put the dice back to their rightful place himself. Then Chewie had finally growled, “See Ben? They love you. A pair of dice could never change that.” That blasted Wookie had known all along.

So he surely knew something now.

After the meeting, which had really only been an attempt to calm Poe down (that man lost his cool alarmingly quickly), she decided to confront him.

“Look Chewie, when you took Rey to Luke, was there anything. . . suspicious?” Rey had never spoken to Leia about the experience with her brother. She’d assumed it was sensitive and disastrous, given that the girl had wound up on the Supremacy, killed Snoke, and somehow broken _a lightsaber_ clean in two. But now. . .

As Chewie began to mumble a non-comital answer, Leia pressed on, “I know that there’s something you aren’t telling me Chewie, and if it has to do with Rey or my son, for both their sakes, I need to know!”

And so he told her how Rey had shown up on the Falcon one rainy night on Ach-To, looking as if she’d been crying, and how she’d practically begged to leave. And take her to the Supremacy. In a coffin-sized escape pod.

With the intention of seeing Ben and bringing him home.

A few hours later he’d received the call from a _very_ fancy escape pod that she needed a ride.

She was alone.

And that poor girl was _insane_. How she'd survived on Jakku with a heart like that was beyond anyone.

What Chewie’s story had lacked in detail was made up for by two, no three shocking realizations:

The first was that she must have been in communication with ~~Ben~~ Kylo.

The second was that she _cared_ about him and thought she could turn him to the light (that, at least in part, explained the kiss).

But the third was that Rey had been keeping all this secret for _months_. Leia trusted that Rey hadn’t been giving up Resistance intel, but for her to guard this so close to the vest even from the _mother_ of a boy it so heavily concerned.

Emotionally, she was far in. Into _what_ remained to be seen, but the fact of the matter was that whatever she had with Ben was either emotionally raw, very special to her, or both.

Rey, Leia knew, was not one to go back on her decisions, nor was she one to make them lightly. Rey was now in the arms of her son, the leader of their enemies, and she had chosen so herself. All that remained now was figuring out how and _why_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo/Ben get ready to meet the Supreme Council. Rose learns what happened from Finn and Poe.

In Rey’s memory of this day, her initial decision to join Ben (and the sheer joy that had immediately followed) was like a beacon of light, so bright it blocked out the surrounding events.

That is, until another critical moment arrived, and now she stood outside a meeting room, Ben holding her hands and looking into her eyes.

“Rey.” _Force_. How he managed to say her name like a prayer and a promise at the same time would be the death of her, she was sure of it. Well, only if the people in the room she was about to enter didn’t decide to murder her right then and there.

“Ben, I don’t think I can—”

“ _Rey_.” Where her eyes were full of fear, his showed only faith, trust, and assurance. “These people work for me. For _us_. Now, I don’t fully trust them all, but they do have to obey me.”

“Perks of being a dictator?” she chided sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes and a shadow of a Solo-smirk crossed his face. “Even if I didn’t outrank every soul in that room, none of them would be permitted to hurt you so long as I was there.” He slowly raised her hands to his face and kissed them.

“Thank you, Ben, I—”

“Though, it’s probably best if you don’t call me ‘Ben’ in front of them. Most people in that room remain unaware of my familial ties to the resistance—”

“and your soft spot for a certain scavenger turned Jedi?”

“—and have only ever known me as Kylo Ren. It’s all I’ve ever been to them.”

And just like that, she was wrenched from the beauty of their belonging. She remembered all the reasons she’d refused his offer a year ago. She did not want to be an Empress. She did not want to be a darksider. She did not want to strike fear in the hearts of – okay, she _did_ want to strike fear in the hearts of her enemies, but she didn’t want the resistance, _her friends_ , to be her enemy. She didn’t want even the least informed of all people, those stranded on Jakku or some other unknown rock, to shudder at her name.

And this man, the one who held her with such reverence, the one who kissed her immediately upon understanding that she wanted to be with him, the one whose presence every emotionally driven cell in her body _screamed_ for, had done horrendous things. And he regretted many of them, she knew, and had known ever since that night by the fire. But he was Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of an organization _that blew up entire star systems_.

“Are—” she stuttered over her words, tears forming in her eyes. She knew that she couldn’t possibly leave him, not when his arms had felt so damn _safe_ and that kiss had been the only thing in the past few days, no the past few _months_ , that had felt even remotely correct. But that didn’t mean she was going to let him be an evil dictator. “Are you Kylo Ren? Or are you Ben Solo?”

They both looked down. Neither spoke. Their hands fell, but they hadn’t let go of each other.

Time lost all relevance. How long has it been since one of them had spoken? A few seconds? Several months? Should she start counting?

Finally, he sharply inhaled, and with a tearful shudder breathed, “I’m not really sure.”

Rey sighed and nodded.

“Okay.” This could be much worse. He could have said Kylo Ren, had demanded she reign from above with terror and lightening storms.

“But Rey?”

“Yes?” she breathed.

“I—” He _blushed_ for Force sake, glancing nervously at the ground, and meeting her eyes once again. “I like it when you call me Ben. It feels special. It feels like. . . Well, it feels like I’m yours.”

And now she blinking back her own tears as she wiped his from his face, tilting her head up so they could rest their foreheads together, and just sigh in blissful contentment and oblivion.

Until stormtrooper boots reminded them both why they were outside _that_ door, and they prepared to enter.

* * *

Star destroyers. An inaccurate name, if Rose had ever heard one. All of the Empire-slash-First Order-Slash-Evil-People in general liked to name their ships and battle stations different varieties of killing stars.

Only Starkiller Base had lived up to the title.

The machine had been totally devastating, she knew, but the mechanic in her (as opposed to the kriffing scholar she had to be right now) was itching to see its blueprints and understand how it worked, just for science’s sake.

Unlike boring old star destroyers, which all had the same basic structure, with a few variances in weapons, internal structure, commanding officer, variance of metal, type of consul, blood type of the commanding officer, maiden name of the sixty-fourth in command’s mother, and—

Rose’s “studying”, if you could still really call it that, was interrupted by a loud clanging noise as Poe and Finn sat, no _slammed_ down onto the benches around her, angrily pushing their trays of food onto the table as well, as if all the old, wooden furniture had wronged them in some deep, personal way.

“What’s happened? Wait, why are you back?!” Last Rose had checked these two were going to stop an evil undead Emperor, who’d already terrorized the galaxy one time too many.

In Poe’s mind he may have been taking a deep breath. However, to call the furious snort and grunt that escaped his nose and mouth mere breathing would be like calling a lightsaber a butter knife. And if Poe’s _breath_ radiated anger strong enough, she suspected, to rival Kylo Ren’s, then unadulterated fury would be an understatement when it came to describing his tone of voice as he snarled the words that followed his grunt.

“Kylo- _kriffing-Ren!_ Has done _something_ to Rey.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. There were two types of angry Poe’s. There was the Poe who saw something he could do about the problem, and would then try to solve it himself, excitedly telling Rey, Finn, and herself that plan. That’s what had been the case with the whole Holdo situation.

This was not that Poe. This was the Poe without even a shred of control, and Rose had been lucky enough to only meet him once before. This Poe did not communicate, and instead chose to hate everyone who disagreed with him, telling his ideas to anyone who would listen, and then forming a clear us-versus-them line of demarcation.

Finn, on the other hand, did not escalate to Poe levels of angry often. In fact, Rose had never seen him like this. But, if his mild obsession with Rey (which had thankfully worn off a bit once the two were reunited on Crait) was any indication, he’d probably be more communicative then Poe.

“What exactly did Kylo-kriffing-Ren do to her?” she inquired calmly, looking at Finn, not wanting the seething storm before her to lash out at her in place in Ren.

“He. . . mind tricked her somehow?” The quiet tone of Finn’s reply left quickly as he added, “And he’s gonna pay!” punctuating the un-Finn-like outburst by slamming his fist on the table. Rose rolled her eyes. This could all be nothing. After all, Finn was and always had been over protective of Rey, treating her like a damsel in distress instead of the girl who had slashed an angry scar on Kylo Ren’s face, and could probably beat up Finn in about two seconds flat if need be. And Poe. . . well, Poe once threatened a tree he’d bumped into, thinking it was a person who had rudely bumped into him.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that. How did he do it?”

“I. Don’t. Know.” Poe snarled. “One minute she’s going to get the sith dagger back—” As Rose began to inquire about _why_ Rey would need a sith dagger, Finn held up a hand to shush her. “—and the next, when we come to _rescue_ her. Does our Jedi jump onto the Falcon and accept our rescue? No. By this point he’s got her under his influence, so she Jedi-closes the doors, _and kisses him_.”

Huh. Poe and Rey had never been an item, but. . . Rey had often been the prey of Poe’s serial flirter ways, and he seemed to think they’d pair off, much like she and Finn were apparently destined to. If the doofus would just make a move. Now, Rey had rejected Poe’s slight advances with as much grace as she could muster considering her past and his tendency to wrap an arm around her waist or shoulder without permission; a habit soon curbed by a few instinctual whacks in the face from Rey’s staff or fist, depending on what was available. Rose knew that from Rey’s perspective, there was nothing there. But. . . it made diffusing this tense cloud of anger much harder, and much more necessary, to diffuse. Logic had no hold in these situations. Crude humor would have to do.

“Well, do you remember last week, when she was spending all that time training?” Two _very_ confused and vicious faces turned to her. “I seem to remember her saying she had to be ready to face Kylo Ren. And then, I do believe, Poe, that you said, ‘Fuck Kylo Ren!’ Perhaps she took you literally?”

No response. Just eye contact between the two vultures sitting on either side of her. That was _not_ a good sign. Usually, Poe would enjoy that particular brand of joke, but. . . he was still visibly pissed, perhaps even more so.

Worse yet, Rose knew Rey pretty damn well. Better than Finn seemed to at least, given that he _still_ thought she needed taking care of when he had never once actually saved her from anything. The thing was, several attractive people, Resistance and civilian alike, had made passes at Rey, all of which she’d refused. Yet this same girl gushed and sobbed over romantic holodramas (not that the last Jedi would ever admit to such a thing, of course), so she must have _some_ romantic aspirations.

“How did it happen?”

“ _What?!_ ” Poe cried in digust.

“The kiss.” Poe scoffed and rolled his eyes. But thank the force, Finn’s concern for Rey meant that he’d share the details, if only to get more aid and information on how to rescue her. _If a rescue was what Rey wanted_ , she thought privately. He took a deep, _hopefully calming_ , breath.

“Well. . . we’d just gone to rescue Chewie, and like we said earlier, Rey was retrieving the dagger. The next time we saw her, she was in a hangar, towards the edge of the ship. She honestly could’ve fallen onto the planet, I don’t know what she was thinking.” _Ah yes, because the last Jedi doesn’t know how to stand without falling_. “So, you know, I call out to her to jump onto the Falcon, cause I’m on the landing strut. So she reaches out and starts to walk towards me.” The former stormtrooper sighed with both desperation and anger. “But by that point, he had already taken over. She Jedi-slammed the door shut, and just. . . stood there. With her hand reaching towards him.”

This was not Rey’s regular behavior, true, but. . . if Ren truly was in control, then why wouldn’t Rey have killed Finn, or destroyed the Falcon? Something was missing. Poe, thankfully, had chosen to keep his seething quiet, presumably anticipating an angry outburst from Rose which he could join once Finn concluded his story.

“And then, he took off his gloves for some reason. Oh! He wasn’t wearing the helmet, by the way, and he walks towards her. She kept her hand reached out though, even once he walked past it.” Was this outstretched hand some robotic tick from Ren’s control? “Then, he put his hand on her cheek. And well. . . kissed her.”

“And she kissed him back?”

The furious Poe awakened. “Nah Rose, she threw him out into space, that’s why she’s here telling you all this!”

“Okay, I _think_ I get it now, thank you for clearing that up Poe!”

The furious duo continued to discuss the recent events in an unbridled rage, but Rose couldn’t shake the feeling that something was. . .off. She was no expert in mind control, and knew even less about the force as a whole, but as a mechanic, she had a knack for noticing every minute detail of a situation; after all, it could be the difference between life and death. And the minute details just did not line up. Why would Rey just close the Falcon door? Why would she hold out her hand? If the hand thing was a mind control robot thingy, then how did she kiss back?

And, if Ren was in control, then why would he have her extend the hand, if his intention was to kiss her? Why would he first put his hand on her cheek before actually initiating the kiss?

Rose trusted Rey, there was no doubt there. And yet. . . it didn’t seem like Rey was actually being controlled by the Supreme Leader. Which would mean Rey kissed him on purpose. A kiss that her supposed enemy had intiated.

 _Well,_ Rose thought, trying to brush out her conflicted impression of the situation at hand, _Rey could do a lot worse than the Supreme Leader of the entire galaxy_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know that TROS did Rose dirty, but she's getting a bigger role in this fic. I feel like she'd be the character with the highest EQ, and that she and Rey would be good friends. So that's what I wrote.  
> Also, thank you to everyone who kudo-ed and commented and all that stuff! It really makes my day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first fanfic, so feel free to lemme know what you thought!
> 
> May the force be with you!


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